Stay Home Tonight
by SingularToast
Summary: This is THE night, and she's leaving to go to the pub? Puck's plans are ruined.


"Okay, get it together, Puckerman." Pulling out the scrap of paper he'd been relying on all week, Puck ran through the last few items on his list again.

_Music?_ Check.

_Candles?_ Check.

_Awesome dinner courtesy of Quinn (who he owes big time)?_ Check.

_Wearing the shirt she loves?_ Check.

_Told all their friends that if they call or text or drop by once in the next 48hrs they'll be dead by morning?_ Check.

Finally, the last item. Patting his pocket nervously for the eightieth time, Puck was confident that he had everything ready. The house was tidy, everything was set up and ready to go, the food was being kept warm in the oven, and the only thing left to do (ha) was due home in about ten minutes.

And of course, they were the longest ten minutes of his life. He paced, he sat down, he turned on the news, and he turned off the news and paced some more. He was in front of their little bar fridge considering having another bottle (or two, or six) of liquid courage when he finally heard her key in the door.

"Noah honey, I'm home but I've got to dash again."

The sound of her bag and keys hitting the table beside the front door echoed through the passageway, and then he heard the door to their bedroom open.

_Shit_. "What!" he called out, hurrying through the house to see her. "But babe, I told you we were staying in tonight."

"Oh, I know, I hadn't forgotten, but the producer and the crew are having drinks down at the pub tonight and I feel that it's imperative that I get to know these people before I spend the next nine months performing with them." Walking toward him, and brushed her lips against his cheek before disappearing into the bedroom once more, moving to rummage through the large chest of draws for something to wear.

Puck moved to stand at the door, leaning against the frame there and trying to look casual. But inside he was panicking. She couldn't leave, not tonight. She couldn't go out! He'd been planning this for months! "Babe, can't you just blow them off tonight? You can go out with them another time, just stay home tonight." _Please stay home tonight. Shit ..._

Her soft laughter filled the room, and she pulled out a lovely little summery dress, one that he knew looked killer on her. "No, I can stay home with you any night, but these sorts of opportunities don't come around too often, especially when I start rehearsals and the performances themselves. I won't have any time to myself then, and certainly no time to consort with my colleagues outside of work."

"Exactly! You'll have, like, no time with me either, so you should really stay home. Just for tonight. You can do whatever any other time."

Puck's leg jiggled nervously, making his foot tap-tap-tap against the ground. She had to stay, she just had to.

Rachel started frowning then, slipping off the straps of her singlet and beginning to change into the dress. Normally he'd be all over that, but he was concentrating far too much on his goal for the evening. "Noah, really. I don't want to argue about this. You—" she stopped talking and really looked at him then, taking in what he was wearing and how cleanly shaved he was. "You look nice by the way. No, Noah I'm going out tonight. We can do whatever you want tomorrow." Smiling saucing at him, she said in a low voice, "I promise."

Fuck. _Fuck._ That was hot. Maybe he could put it off. It was just one night, it'd be fine— _No!_ he'd already put this night off for a month, and it had taken him a ridiculously long time before that to even buy the goddamn thing, so he couldn't keep putting it off. "No babe, not tonight. You really have to stay home."

Turning to face him, now wearing his second favourite short skirt around her ankles with her hands on her hips, Rachel glared at him. He should not have been as turned on as he was right then. "Noah Puckerman, _what_ is your problem tonight? You're acting like a spoilt child not getting their own way. If you keep behaving like this I'm going to stay at Quinn's house."

It was an empty threat, but a good one. Quinn couldn't know. She'd already ripped into him that morning, yelling at him and berating him for putting this off for so long, but at the same time she was ridiculously excited that it was _finally_ happening. He didn't want to disappoint her. Hell, he was _scared_ of disappointing her.

Goddamn it, how was he supposed to keep her here without giving everything away?

"Now, if you'll excuse me," she said huffily, and Puck started to pay attention again in time to see her slip into the dress and zip up the side. "I'm going to go get a drink of water. Try to use these next few moments to calm yourself down, okay?"

Rolling his eyes as she stalked past him, Puck threw his hands up in the air. The woman was impossible. Following her slowly into the kitchen, he then had a moment of panic.

_Shit, dinner!_

Dashing around her, ignoring her indignant 'Hey!' as he passed, he stood in the archway into their kitchen, using his larger frame and outstretched arms to stop her. "What did you say you wanted? Water? Let me get it for you, you go … like, sit down or something."

If she had been confused about his behaviour before, she was downright flummoxed right now. "What on earth has gotten into you tonight? Stop acting so strangely and … and … what's that smell?" Lifting her head higher in the air she sniffed delicately, a surprised but pleased smile slowly forming. "Noah, did you cook dinner?"

"Uh … well, technically Qu— I mean, yes." Well, she could smell it, and really he was surprised she hadn't noticed earlier because he'd been sure the smell had wafted through the whole house. Then again, with how much of a rush she had been in it was no wonder she'd been oblivious.

"Oh, Noah …" Leaning in to wrap her arms around his waist, Rachel smiled brightly. "You are so sweet, it smells delicious." But then her face fell. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. That's why you want me to stay isn't it?" Stretching up to press a kiss to his chin – seriously, his chin, she was that small – she said sadly, "I'm sorry, but I'm sure it'll keep in the fridge." Slipping under his arm, she moved into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water.

"Wait, what? You're still not staying?" What the hell? Even if he didn't have something epic planned for that evening, the fact that he had cooked – ok, the fact that she _thought_ he had cooked – should have made her stop and give in, to stay and spend the night with him. Yeah sure he cooked at other times too, but this was a big dinner for a _big_ reason, so why the hell was she still leaving?

Swallowing the last of the water, she quickly washed the glass out and sat it by the sink to dry. "No, I told you, it is important that I go to this outing tonight."

Growling, frustrated, Puck stalked around the kitchen counter until he stood opposite her, the sink between them, and placed his hands on the counter. "No, it's important that you stay here and have dinner with me."

He heard her sharp intake of breath, and saw her eyes flash. Well done, Puckerman, order the missus around when what you meant to do that evening was romance her. Oh yeah, great job. "I beg your pardon?" She snapped, and he knew he'd pushed a little too far.

"Come on baby, just one night. For me? Please?" He used his most adoring, puppy-dog-eyed expression on her, the one that usually had her caving and moving to touch him, wrapping him up in her arms and apologising for whatever it was she'd done.

But not this time. "You cannot order me around, Noah. I-I'm going out tonight, and I'm going to have a good time, and that's _final_!"

And with that she stormed out of the kitchen, down the hallway, into their bedroom, and slammed the door shut.

"Fuck …" he whispered, hanging his head. He was such a screw up. This was the biggest moment of a girl's life, this was like … the _shit_ for them, and here he was ruining it before it even began. He had to fix this. Pushing away from the counter he jogged down the hallway and paused at their bedroom door, knocking tentatively on the wood. "Baby?" He called softly. "Hey, Rach? Come on babe, I didn't mean for it to come out like that …"

"Go away," she replied, her voice small and muffled behind the door. But then he heard a soft sniffle, and he felt like an even bigger asshole than before.

"Don't be like that. I just had this huge night planned for you, like, for weeks, and I even asked you to keep tonight free. It was going to be epic." Fuck yeah it was. She let out a soft gasp, then an 'Oh' of surprise, and he grinned. "But then you came home talking about going out and not caring about dinner, and now it's all ruined." He tapped the pads of his fingers against the wood, hoping she'd come to her senses and give in.

But everything had gone quiet on the other side of the door.

"Rach?" He called again, worrying that he'd maybe fucked things up for real. "Baby? You still alive in there?"

Then he heard the handle turn. Stepping back a little, he watched as she tugged the door open, relief flooding through him. "Thank fuck …"

But she wasn't looking at him, she was looking at her hands. At what she was holding in her hands.

Terror ripped through him, and Puck's hand instantly dropped to his right pocket. There was nothing there. _Fuck! Fucking fuck, it fell out!_

"Noah …?" She whispered, her voice shaking. She'd opened it. Of course she'd fucking opened it. His girl was always too damn curious for her own good.

"Jesus, Rach," he muttered, wiping his suddenly sweaty hands against his legs. Her eyes lifted to meet his for the barest of moments, and he would have laughed at how wide they were if he wasn't busy trying to remember how to breath. "Talk about ruining the moment."

"The dinner … and you, all …" she gestured lamely at his person, probably meaning his clothes and the fact that he had showered three times already that day.

Running a hand over his shaved head, he sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, all that."

She couldn't take her eyes off it, and that made him both proud and nervous at the same time. It was pretty breathtaking, if he did say so himself. They, whoever 'they' were, said you should spend at least two months salary on shit like that, but he'd gone all out, and it definitely showed. But maybe it wasn't the wow-factor that had her stumped, maybe it was just that, you know, he'd bought a _ring_. Or maybe she didn't want to do this.

Fuck, what if she didn't want to do this? Why the hell wasn't she saying anything? Wait, shit, he was doing it wrong. Clearing his throat, Puck dropped down to the floor in front of her, getting comfortable on his knees before drawing up one leg. He had planned on doing this all proper, and just because she'd ruined the surprise didn't mean he shouldn't do the right thing now.

"Oh my God …" she whispered, finally drawing one hand away from the velvet box to cover her mouth, still staring at him with those wide eyes. He couldn't even tell if that was a good 'oh my God' or a really, really bad one.

He'd had a speech planned. It was stuck to the bottom of the kitchen table so that if he forgot when the time came, he'd be able to grab it and jog his memory. But he couldn't really go running into the kitchen now, so he'd wing it. "Rach, you've been my best mate since high school. You're always telling everyone about how I'm going places, that I'll be doing great things, just like you, and no one really believes you, but that's okay. 'Cause I _have_ been doing great things." Cracking a smile, he pointed out, "I've been _doing you_ since school. And … and you're pretty much the bestest thing there is, so I wanna make sure you're there always." Crap, was he screwing this up too? Her eyes were watering and …

Jesus Christ, he'd made her cry. What the hell was wrong with him?

"So … this is the part where I was gonna pull the box out and open it and all, but you've got it in your hand there already …"

Rachel just blinked at him. With one hand still covering her mouth and the other shakily holding the little open box, she just stood there, her gaze darting from him to the box and back again.

And was he really supposed to be thinking how much the hardwood floors were hurting his knee right now? No, focus. Tapping a hand against his leg and looking up at her, he waited hopefully.

And waited.

And waited.

Bloody hell.

"Rachel, babe … look, if you give me just one single moment of peace and quiet ever in our entire lives, just … _please_ don't let this be that moment because I'm freaking the fuck out right now."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, snapping out of her silence. "I just … you've … and this is … oh my God, Noah …"

"Do you …" Quickly swallowing and trying to wet his suddenly dry mouth, he tried again. "Do you like it?"

Finally, fucking _finally_, her face broke into a smile. "Like it? I love it! Noah, it's … it's beautiful."

Grinning, feeling like an absolute idiot, he asked, "So … is that a yes?"

If his girl's smile could get any wider, it would. She started nodding slowly, and he felt this thing in his chest crack and flood his body with a ridiculously warm feeling, and he didn't even realise he'd stood up until Rachel was suddenly in his arms and he was swinging her about.

He held her tight for a while, not noticing that he'd been whispering, 'She said yes,' over and over in her ear until he heard her giggling.

"Noah," she whispered, tapping his shoulder lightly. "Could you maybe put it on?"

"Shit, yeah," he said, laughing, and dropping her back down on her feet. Taking the box from her, he took the diamond ring in one hand and her little delicate hand in the other, slipping the ring on and feeling pretty damn good about himself.

"It's beautiful," she whispered again, swiping at the tears that were trickling down her cheeks.

"Fuck yeah, it is," he grinned, leaning down to nuzzle against her neck. "You sure you wanna go out tonight?"

"N-no," she whispered, tilting her head to the side, smiling softly to herself. "Not anymore …"

"Good," he growled, nipping lightly at her shoulder while pushing her back into the bedroom. Now that she was his, he was going to make her _his_. "Love you, Rach."

"Love you, Noah," she breathed, before toppling back on the bed with him following closely behind.


End file.
